


The Bride

by Treon



Category: Jewish Legend & Lore
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen, Jewish mysticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6251452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ARI's daughter tells of her childhood memories</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IShouldBeWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBeWriting/gifts).



> The ARI Z'L, Rabbi Isaac Luria, was a rabbi and mystic who lived in the mid-16th century. He came to Safed when he was 36 and passed away when he was 38, but in those two short years, he left a lasting legacy of Jewish thought and tradition.

On Friday afternoons, Papa would wear his special white clothes and go out to the apple orchard outside town, to greet the Sabbath Queen.  On days when Mama wasn't looking, I would sneak out after him.    
  
Papa's disciples would be waiting for him there, all dressed in white, enveloped in their prayer-shawls.    
  
As the sun dropped behind the Holy Mountain of Meron, they would all sing and dance among the trees.  They would close their eyes and cover their heads with their prayer-shawls, like the Kohanim do when they channel the divine presence.  I would cover my eyes with my hands, but I would spread my fingers so I could peek through, and I would see the Sabbath coming, her colorful dress embroidered in gold, her face radiating joy.  For she was the bride, and she was coming to stand by her bridegroom, the people of Israel, under the canopy of stars.  
  
One Friday, Papa told his students that they must come with him to Jerusalem, to greet the Sabbath there.  "We will build the Temple and we will offer the Sabbath sacrifice," he told them.  "For Israel has suffered enough and God has decreed that the time of Redemption has come."  
  
His disciples were so happy.  "Let us notify our wives and children, and then we will go," they said.  And some of them looked dubious, because it was more than a three-day walk from Safed to Jerusalem, and how could they possibly make it in time before the Sabbath came?  
  
Papa got upset.  "Today was the time for Redemption.  For a millennium we've waited.  This was no time for doubts or hesitation, you should have come at once and proven your faith.  Now, Redemption will not come."  
  
That day, when they gathered in the apple orchard, there was no singing and dancing.  They wailed and cried, for they had lost the most precious opportunity to bring Redemption to all of Israel.    
  
One started singing a mournful haunting tune, of the songs sung by the Jews when they were cast out from Spain.  How much longer will Israel suffer so?  
  
And as the sun sank behind Mount Meron, and the skies were colored in purple and crimson, the Sabbath Queen appeared.  I have never seen her so sad. Her eyes were filled with tears.  For God is saddened when His people are saddened.  But she whispered to them, "Don't be sad, my beloved, for Redemption shall come.  Come, be joyful, for the Sabbath is a taste of the world to come."  
  
All this was many years ago.  Papa has since died.  His life here in this world was like the flowering of spring, a riot of color that appears so suddenly and then wilts away too soon.  But even today, I sometimes go outside the city gates to welcome the Sabbath.  And sometimes, as I silently hum the tunes, and as the world turns orange and purple and red and the quiet of the Sabbath lays on the land, I can once again smell the apple blossoms, and I can see the Sabbath Queen coming over the mountain, waiting to rejoin her bridegroom.

 

[Image from children's book for shabbat and holidays]

 

 

 


End file.
